


Dumbasaur, More Like

by Nicnac



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen, Implied Ineffable Husbands, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 07:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac/pseuds/Nicnac
Summary: Warlock is very drunk and very certain dinosaurs weren’t real. These things aren’t related; they just happen to be happening at the same time.





	Dumbasaur, More Like

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick thing I jotted off based on [this headcanon.](https://nicnacsnonsense.tumblr.com/post/187053362592/new-headcanon-warlock-is-the-only-one-who-got-the)

Warlock had been listening to Teresa talk about dinosaurs for at least half an hour now, which he only put up with because Teresa was really very pretty and Warlock was really very drunk. Drunk enough that it took him at least five minutes to notice she’d started talking about the things the Jurassic World movies had gotten wrong. 

“But they can’t get it wrong,” Warlock protested. “It’s all make-believe.”

“Well, yes of course the movies are fictional, and I know they have to take some artistic license, but I feel like they could at least try to make their dinosaurs mostly accurate,” she said, crinkling her nose. It was a very cute crinkle, but Warlock hardly noticed. 

“No, I mean _ dinosaurs_. They’re not real. It’s all a joke, like…” Warlock’s alcohol-soaked brain failed to provide words to explain to joke, so instead he gestured a lot, hoping she’d get it. 

Teresa started laughing, and at first he thought she was laughing at the dinosaur bones, which would be dumb because it was a dumb joke, but then he realized she was laughing at _ him _. “Of course dinosaurs were real. Being extinct doesn’t make them not real.”

Warlock cocked his head at her. “You’re serious.”

Teresa giggled again and gave him a shove to the shoulder. “Yes, I’m serious, and you’re drunk.”

Warlock scrunched his eyes closed. Yep, definitely drunk. “Think I’ll head back home.”

“Well you’re not driving,” Teresa said. “Need a ride?”

Warlock shook his head. “S’not far. I can walk.”

Getting outside in the cool fresh-but-not-really-fresh-because-it-was-still-LA air helped clear his mind a little. Enough that he knew what to do next. 

“Warlock,” Nanny drawled when he answered the phone. He always had just a little bit of the Scottish brogue still whenever he talked to Warlock. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Warlock pulled the phone away from his face and squinted at it blearily. It was pretty late, huh? Then he remembered Nanny was in England and the time was different there. It was… eight hours different. Warlock’s brain didn’t want to do the math on that, but he reminded it he was a Math major, and he could do basic addition even when he was drunk. “Ten in the morning,” he said triumphantly, then frowned. That wasn’t an unreasonable time to call someone. 

Nanny didn’t answer, just made the noise he always made when he realized someone else was right, but wasn’t willing to admit he was wrong. Nanny had been sleeping when Warlock had called, hadn’t he?

“When did you get so lazy?” Warlock asked. Nanny had always been strict when he’d been a kid. She’d had really weird rules - including rules about which other rules to break and how to break them - but she had been strict about them. Not lazy. 

“I’m a demon; Sloth is to be expected,” Nanny answered. Someone on the other end said something and Nanny replied with, “It’s Warlock.”

“Is that Brother Aziraphale?” Warlock said, accidentally mashing together the names Brother Francis and Aziraphale. “Tell Brother Aziraphale I say hi.”

“Brother Aziraphale?” Nanny echoed archly. “Warlock, are you drunk?” He sounded delighted at the prospect. 

“I was at a party,” Warlock said. “There was a girl there. She wants to be a paleontologist.” He sounded the word out carefully and was pretty sure it came out okay. Probably. 

“Paleontology,” Nanny said. Warlock swore he could see his eyes rolling. Then Warlock remembered why he was calling. 

“Nanny. Naaanny,” he whined. Because even if Warlock has grown from a precocious five year old to a drunk college sophomore Math major and Nanny had changed from a stern and very strange Scottish woman to a mostly retired man-shaped demon shacking up with an angel in a cottage in South Downs, Nanny would always be Nanny to Warlock. “Nanny, dinosaurs weren’t really real were they?”

“Of course not. That thing with the dinosaur bones is all a stupid joke,” Nanny said. Aziraphale said something else on the other end to which Nanny said, “Yes, but you think the jokes on the sticks of ice lollies are funny, angel.”

“‘S dumb joke,” Warlock agreed. “It’s, it’s like… it’s a dad joke, is what it is.”

“Well if there was ever anyone to tell a dad joke…”

Warlock giggled. “Our Father who art in Heaven?”

“Exactly,” Nanny said. “Was that all you needed?”

“Yep,” Warlock said, popping the p. “Just wanted to ask about the dinosaurs. Dumbasaurs.”

“Alright. Get home safe,” Nanny said, and Warlock felt a tingle that meant he had made sure he would. “Call us when you’re sober sometime.”

“‘Kay,” Warlock said. “Love you, Nanny. And Aziraphale.”

The smile was audible in Nanny’s voice. “We love you too, dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated.


End file.
